


The Fight

by Tw_Writer614



Category: Ed Sheeran (Musician)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fight to Fluff, Happy Ending, fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-16 22:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4643037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tw_Writer614/pseuds/Tw_Writer614
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed returns home from tour and nothing seems to go as planned. Until it does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How it Always Starts

It began as most fights do. You were too tired, and he was lonely and stressed from being on tour. It bothered you that you had started the fight in the first place. It was like some monster took you over, but you had started it. There was nothing that could change that now.

Ed was finally home for a spell after the last leg of his tour in America. It was supposed to be a relaxing evening. His flight would get in, you would pick up him up and get Nando’s, and then cuddle while watching a Lord of the Rings movie.

Three flight delays later, and it was almost 3am. Ed had taken an Uber home rather than wake you, and you were asleep with your phone by your head ready to spring into action when he called. After his third delay, Ed decided not have you pick him up. You had work in the morning, and there was no reason for you to drive across town when he could just as easily call a car.

“Come on, Love,” he whispered, scooping you up and into his arms.

“But you’re at the airport,” you mumbled, nuzzling into his neck. He smelled like his cologne, spearmint, and something you couldn’t quite place.

He laughed, missing you even when you were cradled in his arms. “How was that even possible?” he wondered, but then again, he had never loved someone the way he loved you. “Then you must be having the best dream ever,” Ed teased, hearing you hum in response. Content. “Just took a car is all. We got back really late.”

“I would always come get you,” you replied, giving him a kiss on the cheek. His whiskers tickling your lips. “You smell different.”

Ed gently set you down onto the bed, not responding. You curled up against your pillow and watched him get ready for bed. Wearily, he pulled off his jacket and then one of his trusty flannel shirts. You were about to admire the colorful ink of his arms in the lamplight when a small white carton fell onto the floor by his feet.

“The smell,” you said softly, sitting up. “Are you smoking again?”

Ed’s shoulders tensed as he snagged the carton from the floor and set it on the bureau. “Not tonight, Love. I’m tired,” he said, throwing his jeans on the chair in the corner.

“It’s a yes or no question,” you replied suddenly feeling angry. He promised he would quit.

Ed threw up his arms and whirled around. “Then yes! Can we please talk about this tomorrow?” he asked; his eyes were red rimmed and his voice cracked from exhaustion. You wanted to reach out and hold him. Let him set his head in your lap and card your fingers through his soft, copper locks, but you had started this fight.

You were on a roll and nothing seemed to be able to stop you. Not even your own common sense. “Were you even going to tell me?” you asked, raising your voice.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “It would have come up or you would have noticed eventually,” Ed replied; his volume starting to match yours. The two of you rarely yelled least of all at each other.

You’re on your feet now, and Ed realized this fight is far from over. “Well which one?” you snapped, noting him grit his teeth at your words. Both of you were stubborn, and that didn’t bode well for a quick resolution.

“Does it matter?”

You’re no longer certain that it does, but at the time, it felt like it should. “I can’t believe you’re even asking me that,” you scoffed. Ed grabs his pillow off the bed and his backpack from the floor. “Where are you going?” you asked, fearful of what this might mean. He had just come home to you.

“The couch. I’m knackered, and I have no interest in fighting with you tonight,” he replied, flatly. He started for the door and then paused with his hand on the doorknob. Turning around, he walked over to you and kissed you on the forehead. “I like the haircut. Suits you.”

You let out a weak laugh as he left the room. You were angry about the smoking, but you were angrier at yourself for picking a fight with him. It hadn’t even crossed your mind to ask why he had started smoking again. Sighing, you picked up his shirt from the floor and slipped it on. Now you were sleeping alone and you didn’t even need to be.


	2. The Calm after the Storm

The next morning you woke up with the sheets twisted around your legs and pillows thrown off the bed. It had been a night of tossing and turning with a headache forming behind your eyes at around 5am. You felt like you deserved it though.

A guitar melody could be heard from downstairs. You hoped Ed had gotten more sleep last night than you had. The poor guy had taken quite a beating from you. With a sigh, you pushed off the covers and decided to face him. The sooner you did the sooner you could spend this break the way you had planned to. Cuddled up next to him watching films and listening to him play the songs that were always dancing around in his head.

“Hey,” you said when Ed looked up from the paper in front of him. “New song?”

Ed rubbed a hand through his bedhead. Whether to correct it or dishevel it further you were uncertain. “Just something I’m tinkering with. I put the kettle on and gathered your lunch. Aren’t you going to be late?” he asked, looking at his watch. It killed you a bit that even in the middle of a fight he was still being that thoughtful.

You played with the hem of his shirt that you still wore. “Took a personal day ages ago. Didn’t want to miss this time together,” you explained, realizing how much your actions last night had challenged that statement.

“Come here?” Ed requested, setting down his guitar and opening his arms.

Trying to hide the smile that worked its way onto your lips, you climbed into his lap. His arms wrapped around you tightly and he let out a long sigh.

You guided his head to the crook of your neck and ran your fingers through his copper hair. “I’m really sorry for picking a fight with you last night. I should have asked why and not just attacked you,” you said, hoping this would be the start of reconciliation.

“And I shouldn’t have tried to hide it from you. It just wasn’t really something I was proud to tell you about,” Ed confessed, squeezing you tighter.

You kissed the top of his head before tilting his chin up so you could look into his blue eyes. “What happened?” you asked, wanting him to let of everything he had been holding onto.

He smiled and cupped your face in his calloused hands. Leaning in, he kissed you softly. “Never got to do that last night. But um…I’ve just been a bit worn down lately. I love the shows and what I’m doing, but I’m stressed and you can’t always be there. Just needed an old friend to release some of the tension I guess,” Ed tried to explain, knowing it would be hard for you to understand.

“I’m always there. No matter the time difference,” you started, watching his cheeks start to fill with a rosy tint. “But I want you to be there to hold me and to have silly arguments with for a very long time. So maybe think about finding a different coping method. Like origami or something.”

Ed pulled back to look at you; his features scrunched up in that face he makes when he’s trying to work something out. “Is that what I strike you as doing with my spare time? Origami?” he asked, baffled.

You rolled your eyes and rested your forehead against his. “It was an example. But you’ll try right?” you asked, kissing him.

“Well, Love, origami has just never been that big of an interest of mine, but if it’s that important to you,” Ed teased, directing you onto your back while wearing a wide grin.

You put a hand on his chest to stop him from getting any closer. “Ed!”

He took the hand that was blocking him and kissed it. “I promise to throw out the cigarettes and find a better way to handle the stress. Promise,” he repeated before his lips found yours in a silencing kiss. The argument officially coming to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Love comments and feedback!
> 
> Originally posted to my
> 
> [Tumblr](http://whateveryourlikenow.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my
> 
> [](http://whateveryourlikenow.tumblr.com/post/121513703498/one-shot-the-fight-part-i-ed-sheeran)Tumblr


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